


Just a Little Dilemma

by agent_izhyper



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Lotsa bromance, bamf!Steve is awesome, tiny!Tony is tiny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_izhyper/pseuds/agent_izhyper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony finds himself in a bit of a predicament when an encounter with a sorcerer has him seeing the world from a whole new 6-inch-tall viewpoint. Now if only he can avoid getting into extra unnecessary trouble while he's at it, it'd save Cap a lot of headache.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shrunk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This story is dedicated to my best friend who inadvertently gave me the idea after a discussion we had about certain awesome/badass/adorable characters and people who are also adorably short. (Point in case: Tony Stark/RDJ. *flails*) And then I quite savagely got _ambushed_ by bunnies who demanded to know what would happen if our very favourite awesome short Avenger went **miniature.**
> 
> Annnd here's the result. Or the beginning of it, anyway. _Tiny!Tony._ *amused*

Tony had a big mouth. It was a universally acknowledged fact. He was a renowned smartass and could talk anyone's ear off if they let him go on for long enough with interrupting him - though, let's be honest, no one interrupts Tony Stark.

This extended to supervillains. Apparently, even they had their limits before Iron Man's snark-filled taunts tipped them over the edge.

It shouldn't have been surprising. It really shouldn't have. They should have been prepared for something like this ages ago, but honestly, the rest of the team had become acclimated to the engineer's incessant ramblings and so tuned them out unless it was something relating to the situation. Which, really, was why no one noticed at first that Tony's digs at the sorcerer they were fighting had hyped him up into a green whirlstorm of rage - right at the same time that thunder shook the skies and a sharp blue bolt of lightning preceded Thor as he landed in front of the now-crumpled-and-slightly-smoking sorcerer.

It wasn't entirely their fault that they missed the zap of blue light that had struck their friend only milliseconds before the sorcerer's fall.

Steve breathed a sigh of relief at the Asgardian's timely appearance - for all their powers, villains with magic at their disposal were generally a tad harder to eliminate without the help of Thor. He approached the Thunderer and clapped a solid hand to his shoulder. "Nice timing."

Thor nodded solemnly. "I would have arrived sooner had he not clouded his presence with a screen of magic," he said, gesturing at the sorcerer who was still collapsed on the floor and didn't look like he was going to be moving any time soon.

"It's fine. I think we were handling it as well as we could, though I don't know how much longer we would have lasted." Steve looked around and spotted Barton helping Romanoff out of the rubble of a broken wall where she'd been flung into a few moments before. The agents then made their way over, looking not too bad considering.

He realised who was missing when the quiet hit him - the same time that Clint glanced around and asked, "Where's Stark?"

"He was right... here..." Steve frowned at the space where he knew he'd seen Iron Man last, only for his eyes to drop down to the ground and then widen in shock.

Behind him, someone groaned. "Oh god..."

**-x-x-**

Tony groaned when the fog in his head started to recede. His whole body was  _aching_ , muscles throbbing like the time the Hulk had accidentally knocked him into the Statue of Liberty. Only this time it felt more like he'd simultaneously pulled all his muscles and moving them at the moment was  _so_  out of the question.

He settled for just squinting his eyes open for now. His head wasn't really pounding like he'd expected, so the light didn't affect him - no concussion then. He lay there, slightly dazed and very achy, staring around him. Despite the lack of complete clarity in his thoughts, he frowned at what he saw. Something was off. Everything looked... weird. Disproportionate. Like he was looking up at the buildings from several stories below ground level. Okay, they were  _skyscrapers_ , but surely they weren't  _that_  tall?

Puzzled, Tony worked to get his arms under him so he could lean on his elbows and see properly. His biceps shook with the weight but he ignored it. The first thing he realised was that the street was a  _hell_  of a lot bigger than it had been. Then he heard his name being called out hesitantly by a familiar voice that seemed, somehow, too loud. Eyebrows furrowed, Tony turned his head in the direction of his teammates and yelped in shock, his arms collapsing from the strain as he tried to jump up. He rolled onto his side, breathing heavily, and slowly stared around him. Cap was the closest, having been the one to call him, and... okay, Tony knew the guy was huge (what with the super soldier serum and all) but he was  _not_ _that_  big.

Neither were Clint, Natasha, or Thor, for that matter.

Tony glanced down at himself. He was still wearing the Iron Man suit. His limbs were intact. His head was fine. His goddamn  _eyes_  were fine, too.

Seemed like the only thing that wasn't was his  _size_.

Tony fell back onto his back with a curse and stared up at the sky - the only thing around him that  _didn't_  look horribly large. " _Why,_ " he groaned.

Not surprisingly, the sky didn't answer.

**-x-x-**

Steve had prided himself on having adapted to the quirks of this new life, but a whole lifetime's worth of preparation could not have set him for something like  _this_. There had never been a moment in his entire life (which, fine, was barely twenty-five years despite his 70-odd-year slumber – but this was a whole new century, for goodness' sake) where he had been so  _un_ prepared like this one.

He didn't quite know how to handle this, bar standing there and gaping at his now 6-inch-short teammate in a stunned manner.

"What… What just happened?" he said faintly. He was dimly aware of Clint moving forward a few steps until he was level with Steve, also staring in disbelief at the small red-clad figure lying on the pavement.

Thor's booming voice startled him out of his daze. "It appears the Man of Iron has been struck by the sorcerer's hand and become minuscule in size."

"You think?" Clint muttered.

"Is he at least conscious?" Natasha asked from behind them as she put away her phone, having called up SHIELD to take away the sorcerer.

Steve opened his mouth but snapped it shut as their teammate sat up and, slowly, got to his feet. Tony glared up at them, as if daring them to say something, and snapped a peevish "Unfortunately, yeah." His voice was a bit higher than it would normally be, but otherwise he seemed fine – albeit the obvious.

Steve's mouth set into a thin line. He was not going to laugh. Not only because Tony looked like he might- no, scratch that- he  _most definitely would_  blast his now-tiny repulsors right into his eyes if he did, but because he was team captain, god dammit. He had to get a handle on this situation and  _laughing would not help_.

Clint, on the other hand, had no such qualms and he burst out laughing immediately. Tony scowled at him (Steve had a moment to be relieved that the Iron Man suit could not shoot out of the eyes) before shooting up on his thrusters, flying past Barton and simultaneously zapping him with a short close blast at his right knee.

Needless to say, Clint wasn't laughing anymore.

Steve, still feeling rather lost and helpless, trailed along with the rest of the team as they moved back to their quinjet.

It was a long, tense ride back to Stark Tower; definitely not helped by Thor plucking a very-much-sulking Tony out of the air where he was hovering (probably so he didn't feel so inadequate in size compared to them) and holding him up to examine him, claiming almost delightfully, "This sorcery is reminiscent of my brother's tricks from when we were much younger! I have not encountered such magic in years."

"Amazing," Tony said flatly, his arms crossed and tone tense, even as his legs dangled beneath him almost pathetically. "Put me down, Thor, or I  _will_  shoot you."

Thor didn't seem put-out at all. Steve considered intervening, but decided against it after a couple seconds' worth of internal debate. Thor could handle himself and Steve wasn't entirely sure he could deal with a sulking/angry miniature Tony Stark right now. He may or may not be still wrapping his head around certain things. He was also a little busy being glad that Barton was in the pilot's seat and not back there with them to goad Tony into blasting somewhere a bit more painful than his knee.

"Fear not, Friend Stark," Thor was now saying, oblivious to the death glares he was getting. "The effects of such spells tend to wear off given time." Steve wasn't the only one to sigh in relief at this. Unfortunately, Thor didn't stop there. "Unless, of course, the sorcerer's intent was one of permanence."

The string of curses emitting from Tony's mouth would have probably been a lot more scandalizing had his voice not risen even higher in his frustration. Rather, it was just a little bit endearing.

Steve thought now would be a good time to prevent Thor's eyes being fried off, and he said hastily, "It might not have been, but he's in SHIELD's hands now in any case. I'm sure we can get him to reverse it."

Tony scoffed, though he did look slightly less irritated. Steve sighed again and leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his short hair wearily.

It was going to be a  _long_  day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would love to get some feedback! **Review and I will let you play with tiny!Tony** because reviews are amazing and inspiring things. They tend to guilt-trip me into updating things when I go a while without writing anything because I'm generally just a lazy person (I know, it's horrible.) and also serve as ego-boosters but, ah, let's not go there, hey?  
>  Hope you enjoyed this starter and there's more where this came from, I can promise you that. ;)  
> Cheers, mates~  
> izzy. :)


	2. Sulk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony does-not-sulk in his lab, _isn't_ avoiding the team and is most definitely fine.  
>  Also, Steve is not convinced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Okay, so when I post up a fic that's got some chapters done and I decide that I will update weekly on a schedule like an organised person, um, well, you'd think I'd have learned by now that I just don't stick to plans.  
>  So. Yeah. Here's chapter two and I hope you like it. :)

Tony was carefully ignoring his teammates as they got off the quinjet. He had managed to escape Thor’s clutches once the demigod had gotten over his initial fascination for the magic, but Steve’s constant sympathetic looks were a whole different story – evading _those_ was like trying to shake off a sad puppy who’d been recently kicked down, and honestly, since when did being a _super soldier_ enhance someone’s eyes to that level of innocence anyway?

“You giving us the silent treatment now?” Clint appeared next to him suddenly, glancing sideways at the flying Tony (there was no way he was going to walk under their feet like a goddamn _insect_ ), amusement clearly colouring his tone.

Tony rolled his eyes, though the action was lost on the archer due to his faceplate being down, and sped up a bit as the roof doors to the Tower slid open.

“C’mon, Stark. Aren’t you being just, you know, a _little_ touchy?”

There was no mistaking the smirk in the other man’s voice at the pun, and Tony didn’t have to look as he raised a hand and blasted back another shot at Barton. He was awarded with a “ _son of a-!”_ as he flew ahead, followed by Steve’s reproving words telling him (nicely, of course; this was Cap they were speaking of) to lay off a bit and leave Tony to get a handle of the situation.

They may not always get on, but Tony wasn’t such an ungrateful idiot not to appreciate what Rogers was doing, even if it was out of a sense of team duty. It meant he could just fly down to his lab undeterred by anyone.

It was with a relieved sigh that he entered his lab, settling down on the (now much too roomy) couch as the doors slid smoothly shut behind him. He’d hid it well from the others on the jet, but his body was still aching from the spell. Not a surprise, of course – he’d been reduced to _six goddamn inches_ from his initial 5’ 8”, that kind of thing wasn’t something one just got over. His muscles felt tense and bunched up in parts – shoulders, thighs, biceps – and he just wanted to sprawl out on the couch, lock everyone out and try to either forget this even happened or will the spell to stop working already.

Or he could actually think about how this was going to work out in the meantime, but...

He snorted. _Yeah, uh, no thanks_.

Ignoring the others seemed like a relatively nice idea, though.

After, of course, he got a certain ‘bot of his to quit poking at him.

Tony grunted and batted Dummy away. “Just ‘cause you’re bigger than me does not mean I can’t still donate your ass to a primary school.”

Dummy backed away at that but didn’t quit hovering. Tony huffed a breath that was half amused. “Hey, Jarvis?”

“ _Sir?_ ” The familiar cool ‘voice’ of his AI brought a tired grin to his face.

“Don’t let anyone in unless I let them.”

“ _Of course, sir._ ”

Tony contemplated getting up but his muscles only had to shriek in protest for him to abandon that idea. Hell, the couch was comfortable enough – though dozing in the suit marred that a bit. But the idea of being out of it, even in the safety of his lab, made him reluctantly uneasy.

Better not being vulnerable than comfortable, anyway.

**-x-x-**

Tony was avoiding them. Steve hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since they’d landed the quinjet and that was _two days ago_. And, okay, Tony tended to bury himself in his work but then again Tony wasn’t _usually_ hit by a shrinking sort of spell.

They didn’t know if it had any after effects which might not have shown themselves immediately. He could have been badly affected by it and none of them would even _know_ because he’d taken to holing himself up. And, yes, the man was a pain and irritating at best, but Steve had to admit that this disappearance had him a little bit concerned.

He did have a job to watch out for his team, after all.

So it was with that resolution in mind, Steve took the elevator down to Tony’s personal labs, resolved to check up on him despite any protests.

Well, first he had to convince Jarvis to let him in. Tony clearly wasn’t hiding the fact that visitors weren’t welcome if he’d specifically overridden their security passes and _locked them all out._

Steve scowled to himself. He glanced upwards uncertainly (new-century-technology be damned, if someone expected him to suddenly get used to a semi-sentient system that could talk to them throughout the Tower then they were delusional) and said, at a last attempt after trying to argue with the thing, “Jarvis, can you please tell Tony that I’m here and that I won’t be moving until he lets me in?”

“ _Certainly, sir_ ,” the smooth British voice responded. Steve sighed and leaned back on the wall behind him, resigned to what was surely to be a long wait.

As it so happened, though, he only had to stand there a couple of minutes until the steel doors before him slid open. Steve winced at the deafeningly loud music that blasted out with them but stepped in nonetheless. He’d come this far. No point in second-thoughts now.

Thankfully, the music quieted down to an acceptable level once he’d entered and Steve took it as a good sign. He glanced around, as usual equally perplexed and amazed by all the strange equipment and holograms surrounding him. He always felt like he’d stepped through a portal every time he entered Stark’s labs, into an impossibly advanced world that made normal twenty-first century look tame.

His fascination was cut short when his eyes fell on the man he’d come to see. Tony was hovering up in front of some holograms depicting some sort of equation with chemicals, in his suit but with the helmet off. Steve felt some tension leave his shoulders as he confirmed that his teammate _wasn’t_ , in fact, lying injured on the floor or something.

Tony didn’t look up as he rapidly moved around the holograms. “You didn’t get lost on your way down here, did you?”

Steve scowled. The concern and relief from earlier dwindled away meekly in the face of his annoyance. _That was one time…_ “Good to see you too, Stark,” he said evenly, refusing to take the bait. He moved closer, perching on the closest stool and watching Tony move around, never stopping once. “I see you’re perfectly fine, then.”

That garnered a familiar mock-offended look as Tony swiped a hand across the hologram in front of him and cleared it away, leaving nothing but the bench top between them. “’Course I’m fine, when aren’t I?”

Steve didn’t bother replying, only raised his eyebrows sceptically. _Definitely fine_.

“Right, don’t answer that.” Tony broke eye contact, hovering down to the tablet lying on the bench and swiping across it a few times. Steve noted with interest that he didn’t settle onto the bench top itself, even though it might have been easier to access the tablet that way. Instead, he stayed hovering up, leaving him at almost eye-level with the Captain.

It wasn’t surprising, though – a man like Tony Stark revelled in having control of what was happening. In his current circumstance, he would naturally choose to gain control of any situation that he could, refusing to let his problem hinder him. Steve realised that must be why he’d refused to leave the lab – it would be a lot more challenging for him to handle anything the way he wanted to up there where the rest of the team could see him. He also got the feeling that, had it been another team member – Clint or Thor, maybe – Tony would have likely left them outside.

“Alright- _what_ , Spangles?”

Steve started. He hadn’t realised he’d been staring. Tony stood (hovered) in front of him, arms crossed and a flat look on his face. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed just a bit as he took in the weariness he could only see now that Tony was closer and actually still. “Why did you let me in?” he asked, foregoing the ‘ _are you alright?_ ’ because he knew that would not only be pointless but would also make the other man close off entirely. That, of course, was not what he wanted right now.

Tony cocked an eyebrow with a sarcastic, “Hey, if you don’t wanna be in here, the door’s that way.”

Steve huffed. Why did he have to be so impossible? “That’s not what I meant, Stark.” He held the brown eyes in front of him firmly, knowing he likely had his (to quote Clint) ‘ _I’m the Captain here, don’t BS me_ ’ face on.

“Why did you come?” Tony asked without missing a beat, expression impassive.

“Because you’ve been avoiding us.” Steve narrowed his eyes as Tony snorted.

“I haven’t been avoiding anyone, I’ve been working as you can see,” he shot back, waving an arm at the equations and diagrams hovering around them.

Steve frowned, refusing to back down. “We are a team, Stark,” he pointed out. “We help each other. You hiding down here isn’t helping anyone, and you know it.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. Tony stared at him then let out a short humourless laugh. He shook his head and moved away, flying over back to his work. “Well, if any of you can figure something out, I’ll be glad to let you _help_. Let me know if you get a breakthrough, hm?” He waved a hand dismissively back at Steve, seemingly immersed once more in the floating diagrams before him.

Steve knew when to stop while he was ahead, and he left silently, hoping at least that Tony would consider what he’d said. It wasn’t just concern for the billionaire, though that was high up on the list. No; he hated to admit it, but Tony like this would be a bit of a liability to the team if they got called up on a job anytime soon. Leaving him behind was not an option – since when did _Tony Stark_ let himself be left behind for anything?

The most he could do in this situation was ensure Tony would be working with them properly to prevent him from doing anything too reckless (though he did that anyway, usually, but it was the principle of the matter that counted) and, to do _that_ , Steve had to make sure he didn’t keep avoiding the team.

He sighed as he took the elevator down to the gym, ready to take his frustrations out on a punching bag or twenty. Now he just had to figure out _how_ to do it all.

One would think, compared to all he’d been through and done lately, this would be a piece of cake. Funnily enough, Steve had the feeling it wouldn’t be quite so simple…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know, it's funny. I never planned for Tony to be so _moody_ about this problem. I fully expected him to be joking and mucking around.  
>  As you can see, that is clearly not the case. *frowns at him* I'm really not sure what's up with him. Guess he's taking this loss-of-control thing very seriously.
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who commented on the first chapter, bookmarked, and/or kudos-ed it! :D Means a lot. You're all awesome! :3
> 
> (Also, as soon as I'm bothered grabbing my USB I'll put up the couple of stunning and amazing fanarts my friend and best friend's li'l sister drew for this fic. :D)


	3. Snark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint's an amused li'l shit, Steve's getting his Spandex all twisted up, and Tony _may_ just be a teensy little bit (honestly no pun intended, Tony, don't shoot me) tipsy.
> 
> Oh, and they take out another bad-guy, so there's a positive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to fix up this chapter before posting it. ALSO. Here I shall show off two frankly _amazing_ works of fanart made for this story by awesome people who are **epic beyond belief** :D They're right under this. ^^ The first one's a scene straight from the end of this chapter, by my awesome online friend **RemyMcKwakker** , and is just _adorable_ and _sososo perfect_ and the second is by my best friend's (AgentRenaeShnucumbs) little sis, and it's too beautiful for words. :3 _Again, thank you so much, guys, I totally appreciate it_ :D

 

Steve wasn't entirely sure whether it was his words that helped change his teammate's mind or something else, but it was only a day after his visit (or 'mission', as Clint had called it) that he and Bruce ventured into their main lounge only to find none other than a tiny Iron Man lounging up on the bench top from the bar area and casually flicking through the channels on the massive television. He was leaning back comfortably against one of the indefinite bottles of expensive alcohol that he always had lying around, and Steve was alarmed to see that he even nursed a full cup in his hand.

Granted, it was a  _small_ full cup – and where did he even get that, anyway? – but the point remained that alcohol in a body  _that_  small could not bode well.

Steve wasn't the only one to realise this, and he was ever thankful that Bruce was here. His friendship with Stark meant that the latter showed him more respect and consideration for his words than most people in Tony's company got.

"Is that wise?" Bruce said wryly as they neared the bar, nodding at the drink. Steve had to hand it to him – the man didn't so much as  _look_ at Tony funnily, despite it being the first he'd seen ofhim since before the incident. But then, Steve guessed that when your temper tended to turn you into the Hulk, nothing much would tend to faze you.

Tony glanced at him with an all-too-familiar smirk and raised his glass to his lips. "You're really asking  _me_ that? And I thought you were smart, Banner."

"Stark..." Steve began, prepping himself for an argument.

But Tony cut him off with an unconcerned wave of his free hand, his eyes trailing back to the film playing on TV. "Untwist your spandex, Cap, it's watered-down."

Steve frowned but conceded. Tony was, after all, not entirely an idiot. He clearly knew that being almost a tenth of his size meant his body couldn't handle any sort of fixed alcohol.

"So where were you all?" Tony asked after he'd finished his drink and settled the cup down with a satisfactory sigh. He definitely seemed a lot more at ease than he'd been the previous times Steve had seen him – he didn't know if that was all thanks to the alcohol, but he wasn't about to question it. A highly-strung Tony Stark was no fun for anyone.

"Video call with Fury," Steve answered. Tony's suddenly sharp gaze turned to him and he rectified, understanding the quizzing look, "Didn't mention you. He was updating us on what they knowabout the prisoner."

Tony nodded, though his eyes shifted between the two men in front of. "So he doesn't know?"

Bruce shrugged. "We figured we'd leave it out for now. According to Thor, this type of spell wears out by itself so I guess we can just hope it doesn't last long. Otherwise, Fury will notice and I don't know what he'll want to do about it."

Tony looked disgruntled at the idea but before he could say any more on the matter, the door opened again and their two SHIELD agents strolled in, talking quietly amongst themselves but pausing when they saw the others.

Steve sighed long-sufferingly as Clint's eyes fell on Tony and he all but pounced forward, a familiar and sometimes-dreaded cheeky smirk in place. "Hey, if it isn't our littlest Avenger!" He jumped up to perch on the edge of the bench next to Tony, all casual ease and good humour.

Steve wondered whether the archer had a death wish, or if he was simply ignorant to the pissed off Iron Man beside him.

"You do realise that my suit is still working perfectly, right?" Tony nonchalantly flexed a gauntlet-covered hand in front of him, regarding it with what could have been just an interested expression.

Clint rubbed at his shoulder with a wince. "You didn't have to shoot me  _twice_ , I got it the first time," he said, disgruntled.

Steve wavered at the sidelines, not sure if he should get in between them – hell, he wasn't quite sure they were  _actually_  in dispute with one another. Tony and Clint had a confusing relationship which he didn't fully understand yet. It involved often-underhanded insults and attempts to outdo each other, which you'd think would pit them against one another but instead ended in laughter.

"I'm just curious, man – how  _is_  everything from your small half of the world? Aren't you worried about getting trampled?" Barton jibed.

Tony shot back without missing a beat, looking bored as he spun his empty cup in his hands, "Says the man who feels the need to sit up on the highest surface in the room so he doesn't feel inferior to everyone else."

Clint grinned at that, taking the opportunity to quip, "Hey, I'm not the one in the position to feel inferior right now."

Steve hesitated then. He saw Tony's frown, a real one, and thought that maybe it was a bit too soon for that. He cleared his throat and stepped forward so that their attention turned to him. "Fury also wanted us to back up some of his agents not far from here."

"An attack?" Tony asked, eyebrows raised.

"That  _Wrecker_  guy?" Clint hopped down from the bench top at Steve's confirming nod.

As the others started to file out after gathering their respective weapons, Steve filled Tony in quickly. Fury thought they'd be more useful in dispatching the guy because whatever weapon (Steve wasn't sure, but he could've sworn Fury said  _crowbar_ ) he had seemed to be causing some trouble for regular SHIELD agents due to some unaccounted-for properties in the metal. He'd managed to demolish half a bank and was no doubt making an attempt at a robbery.

Tony snorted and flew up next to Steve as he marched out of the room, grabbing his shield on the way. "Sounds like a lucky amateur who somehow got his hands on a fancy gadget."

Steve personally agreed, but he wasn't about to say that out loud. "Nonetheless, he could still cause harm to the civilians." He paused and glanced sideways at the Iron Man suit that could fit inside his hand, silently assessing. "Maybe you should sit this one out. We don't really need all of us out there," he suggested.

"Pull the other one, Spangles," Tony merely quipped before shooting ahead. Steve frowned but reluctantly let it go, knowing that unless he physically tied Tony down to something heavier than he was (which, at the moment, constituted most things in the Tower) there was no stopping Tony Stark from going.

"You better stick to the plan, Stark!"

He got a mock-salute in return.

**-x-x-**

As he swiftly flew low to avoid flying debris, Tony vaguely recalled Cap saying something about  _plans_  and  _sticking to them_. He glanced around at the general state of chaos surrounding him, the crumbling (thankfully empty) buildings, his team-mates dodging the large pieces of rubble being flung at them, and came to the conclusion that whatever  _plan_ Rogers had outlined on their way to confront the Wrecker had blown to pieces along with the street.

Which, of course, meant that there was pretty much no plan left to follow, and  _that_  meant he could do anything without being yelled at for ignoring orders. Again.

Not that he particularly cared, mind you, but listening to the same lecture over and over did get tedious and Tony really did have more important things to do with his time. Possibly things like working out how much alcohol his body could hold exactly because he may or may not be feeling tipsy, and that was just ridiculous because he'd  _watered it down a lot_. 

Tony put the problem out of his head for the moment - he saw a window of opportunity as the Wrecker was distracted with, well, wrecking things in the direction of Hawkeye to avoid his arrows and grinned to himself. That was more like it. He sped ahead, sending more power to his thrusters and barrelling fast and hard right under the man's arm and into his midsection. It wasn't enough to make him drop his super-powerful crowbar (and Tony seriously needed to get his hands on that and figure out what exactly was in the metal), but it did force the air right out of his body with a sharp exhale and he staggered back a step. Tony steadied himself before he tumbled in mid-air as he may have done on a previous occasion while drunk, smirked and then flew a quick circle around him before he could be seen, sending a sharp blast at the hand holding the crowbar up and then shooting up with a short call to Hawkeye over the coms – "Shoot him,  _now_."

In the end, it was pretty anti-climatic. Clint had an arrow in the guy's shoulder before the Wrecker could even look around for the little red thing that had rushed him. Steve's shield knocked him out properly and they all settled around him, the dust and debris littering the street but no one seriously injured.

"Well, I think that went well," Tony grinned, letting his faceplate slide up. "Definitely better than last time." The adrenalin high mixed with what small amount of alcohol was in his blood sent an almost euphoric high through him, making him feel a hell of a lot better than he had since the incident.

Clint snickered, Natasha rolled her eyes, and Steve was not amused in the slightest. He glowered at Tony, who tried to edge past him and follow the others back. "What did I say, Stark?"

"Oh, come on, my trick worked." Tony waved an unconcerned arm down at the unconscious Wrecker. "Look, he's all knocked out, no-one got hurt, it's a win-win situation!"

He was just about to put on a burst of speed to get him away from another lecture on the Importance of Sticking to the Plan, when a hand reached out and snagged him from the air. Tony stilled at the unexpected ( _and goddamn underhanded_ ) move and stared in disbelief as Cap held him up to eye level and said very calmly, "You can't keep pulling reckless stunts and expect them to always work. We're a team, Stark, and we have plans for a reason!"

Tony scoffed, trying unsuccessfully to wriggle free. "The plan was already in ruins. I saw an opportunity and I took it." He glared heatedly. "And let me go, dammit."

Steve frowned and held his glare solidly for a few more moments before letting him free and dropping his hand. Tony hovered there for a second, waiting for the inevitable " _you're in a vulnerable state right now, you can be taken down easier and faster than the others_ " and clenched his jaw in anticipation, but it never came. Steve just shook his head with a sigh (Tony was very familiar with that sigh) and strode past him to the bank which had initially been under attack before they'd arrived, no doubt to make sure there was no one in there still.

Tony blinked at his retreating back. That... was unexpected. He spared the unconscious villain of the day a glance before shooting up and heading back to help the others fix up some of the mess. Though, just how much rubble he could move when he was  _this_  damn small was beyond him.

Frustrated, Tony aimed a repulsor at a particularly large piece of broken concrete and blasted it into dust and pieces.

 _Well_ , he thought as he surveyed it. It didn't quite get rid of the debris, but it did feel good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked that. x) Credit for the bad guy, the Wrecker, goes all to Marvel. I'm not actually familiar with him personally but I found him online in a list of Marvel villains and thought he could work for this chapter instead of having to make something up myself...
> 
> (Also, I do promise a very much drunk - or maybe highly caffeinated - tiny!Tony in later chapters. I needed him a little sober there xP)
> 
> In any case. Let me know what you thought, please? :) *pokes comment box* Won't take a minute. ^^
> 
> Cheers, fellas~ :D  
> iz.


	4. Snatched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all fun and games until someone attacks... and, like it or not, Tony is very much vulnerable in his current state. This does not bode well for him _at all_.

Tony was extremely reluctant to open his eyes. He knew what had happened. He knew how it had happened. And he had a pretty fair idea as to what he would find if he looked.

If he was being honest, he would admit that maybe this was  _slightly_  his fault, but odds were everyone with half a brain knew that already so he really didn't have to admit to anything. It was most definitely common knowledge that any life-threatening situation that Tony Stark found himself in was bound to be kudos to some reckless and/or thoughtless feat of his.

Nonetheless. His curiosity was getting the better of him. There was only so much information he could gather from touch alone.

The most prudent of which was the fact that he felt _alarmingly exposed._

Tony's eyes snapped open. He didn't have to glance down to confirm what he could feel, but he did it anyway, praying that his mind was playing tricks on him or  _something_. _Anything but that..._

It was futile, though, unless his eyes were playing up too, now.

His Iron Man suit was missing.

Tony cursed. Actually, he would have spent a good minute or two cussing out anything and everything that his mind jumped to, until his gaze lifted and the words caught in his throat. Oh, no, this was much worse than what he'd originally thought. A normal-sized cell, he could handle. Hell, being chained down to a chair in a lab, he could probably handle.

But this...  _oh_. A harsh chuckle tumbled out of his lips before he could stop it as he stared wildly around and goddamn  _wished_  he'd been given some sort of hallucinogen.

Because Tony had been kidnapped, and was trapped in a confining enclosed cage. Like a mouse, or... or a lab rat...

He swallowed, feeling almost ridiculously close to what could have been  _panic_. The top of the box was solid and he could tell that if he stood at his full six inches, he would most definitely hit his head on it; and though all four sides were barred, they were surrounded from the outside except for a rectangle at the front where the door of the cage was, which provided the only source of light as well as the only exit.

Tony had barely begun to force himself to  _calm the shit down_  when a shadow passed over the opening and a large hand appeared in front of it, deftly unlocking it and swinging it open. Then a man peered in, thick-rimmed glasses sitting crooked in front of almost manic wide eyes and a heavy blond moustache on top of a smirking mouth.

"Oh  _hello_ , Mr. Stark!" the man said in a delighted voice. "Am I so glad to see you awake, at last!"

Tony could not truthfully say he returned the sentiment, so he didn't say anything at all. Though that was more to avoid giving his captor more fuel to use against him than any sense of  _etiquette_.

He registered vaguely, in the back of his mind, that maybe Steve had had a point when he'd cautioned Tony to be careful earlier on.

...Well. Hindsight really was a bitch.

**-x-**

**[Earlier that morning]**

Tony would have liked to say that he'd considered possible repercussions of going out in public after being reduced to his six-inch self, but the truth of it was that he really hadn't.

Well, the  _absolute truth_  was that he had maybe spent more time- well,  _not-sulking_ , in his lab than he had actually thinking this through. Not that anyone needed to know that. Of course, it wasn't like he  _ever_  considered his actions before he did anything but maybe this was one aspect he shouldn't have overlooked.

Because, really, a recently-miniaturised Avenger? Yeah, the reporters were having a field day.

"You have got to be kidding me." Tony hovered up next to a solemn-faced Steve as they stared at the news report on the TV.

"I wish I was," Steve said grimly.

"How did they even- I thought the area had been completely evacuated by the time we got there," Tony grumbled. He crossed his arms with a huff, feeling extremely indignant as footage played showing him zooming off after the others to help with the clean-up.

"It was," Steve frowned. "There weren't supposed to be any civilians there, let alone news reporters."

"Bastards always sneak up everywhere." Tony scowled and flicked the TV off, cutting off the woman's overly-dramatic musing as to what exactly had happened to the famed Iron Man. He glared at it for a few seconds afterwards just for good measure.

Steve grimaced next to him. "You do realise what this means, right?"

"Oh, yeah – the universe hates my guts."

The flat look Cap gave him said he was being dramatic again. The not-petulant glare Tony shot back said he didn't give two flips.

"Director Fury," Steve told him.

Tony swore.

**-x-**

Steve would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised by the slight change in attitude in Tony after the fight the previous day. It wasn't anything big; it was subtle enough that to an outsider nothing seemed different but being on the receiving end of it was a bit of a shocker.

He wouldn't exactly say that Tony was being  _friendly_ , but his tolerance definitely seemed to have gone up a level. It left Steve more than a little flummoxed – more due to its unexpectancy than any confusion as to the cause.

The latter, he was certain, was the fact that he hadn't treated Stark any differently after his stunt against the Wrecker. He could see the wariness in the man's eyes every time someone came close to making any sort of comment about his problem. It wasn't like any of the team meant to make him feel like he would be a liability or anything of the sort as long as he was like this, but jabs at the situation did slip out and they didn't exactly help their unlucky teammate.

So Steve had made sure his words were what they would have been had Tony not been affected by a shrinking spell and had pointedly not remarked on him needing to be more cautious, even though the thought was niggling at the forefront of his mind. It had helped, and he was glad of that. God knows that a moody Tony Stark was a snappy one, and he thought they could do without extra snarky retorts from the genius.

Of course, his relief at the situation looking up was sadly short-lived, as seemed to be the case for many things in the Avengers' lives. The news update spreading the report on the newly-shrunk Avenger was only the catalyst for worse things.

Fury had heard, and he was not pleased. Steve only had to take a look at the stone faces of the rest of his team around him as they faced the Director's video call and knew that they were all likely cursing inside. Steve faced his irritation at the team having " _withheld a potentially-disastrous secret_ " with his usual calm exterior, all the while praying that Tony – who was hovering higher than his teammates and glowering at the screen – didn't take the opportunity to shoot off his mouth.

Fortunately, the call ended with only the common sarcastic quip at the Director (" _You're_  lecturing us on keeping secrets?  _Really_ , Nick?") and Fury's final growled warnings to keep Stark from getting himself killed or worse before he cut the line.

Steve breathed out steadily, raising a hand to rake through his hair. He turned to look at Tony who huffed a laugh that was probably more humourless than he'd intended.

"Next person who implies I'm somehow in more danger like this won't be walking straight for a week," he declared.

Steve exchanged a look with the agents and Bruce before turning to Tony, who narrowed his eyes dangerously. "I think you should lie low for a couple of days," he said, holding his gaze firm even as Tony's ire became apparent and his jaw clenched. "The spell will wear out soon, if Thor was right. It really wouldn't hurt to be careful, Tony."

Stark rolled his eyes and shot him a flat mocking grin. "You do know who you're talking to, don't you, Cap? And I thought you knew better."

He was out of the room before Steve could think of another way to tackle this. By the time he'd realised that Tony in this state was more likely to do something volatile and set to chase and hopefully catch him, the other man was well out of the Tower.

Steve felt the tendrils of worry rising up in him, mixed with a fair amount of guilt. He should have known how Tony would react to that.

God only knew now what he'd get himself in to.

He looked around as a hand clasped his shoulder solidly. "Don't worry, Cap," Clint said confidently. "We'll get him back before that idiot does anything."

Steve smiled at him grimly. "Let's hope you're right."

**-x-**

Tony did  _not_  feel a need to prove himself, and he was  _not_  looking for trouble.

Never mind the fact that he was doing extremely well on the latter.

 _Looks like danger's as attracted to me as anything else_ , he thought rather wildly as he was grabbed roughly mid-flight and caught nothing but a blur of colours until he hit something large and solid with a rather worrying  _thud_.

...Yeah, he'd say he was being pretty damn successful at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Poor Tony. *pats his head* I'd feel bad but, y'know- vulnerable!tiny!Tony, people. *grins*
> 
> Also yay for plot! And now on to the epic saving of tiny!Tony by his badass buddies (whoa double alliteration) :D
> 
> Comments feed the muse and I promise next chapter might be up soon!
> 
> izzy.


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